Ephemeral
by Vatonage
Summary: It's every kid's dream to one day become the Pokémon champion— but not all of them can. What happens to those who don't? It hurts to have to leave your childhood dream behind you. A part of you always wants to hang onto those foolish aspirations, but sometimes you just have to let go. Drabble collection for reminiscent-afterthought's 'The Too Many Cooks Challenge'.


Author's Notes: Hey all! Thanks for clicking! Before I begin, I feel that this sort of needs an explanation. This is going to be a drabble collection exploring the life of a trainer and his Pokémon post journey. I mean, not everybody can be a Pokémon champion, right? Anywho, this is written for reminiscent-afterthoughts 'The Too Many Cooks Challenge' (You can find all of the specific details in the Pokémon Fanfiction Challenges forum). Essentially, this is just a drabble collection in which you write one drabble, then your partner writes one, then you write one. You must never contradict anything either of you set forth in your universe. You continue this until there isn't anything left to be explored. My partner in crime is 0-Lacrimosa-0; she is writing from the trainer's POV and I'm writing from the POV of the Pokémon. Be sure to check out her half!

The catch: all you and your partner are allowed to do is agree on a general summary of the drabble collections, and that's it. Then you must give each other prompts and the rest will (hopefully) work itself out from there.

The prompt for this drabble was 'hero'. Enjoy.

* * *

Everybody has a hero.

Your hero is everything. They are the person you look up to when your whole world comes crumbling down around you. They are the shoulder you cry on when the winds of fate are hellbent on throwing you down onto your knees time after time. But, most importantly, they are your inspiration— they drive you to grow stronger. They drive you to push yourself past your limits, no matter how great the pain. They drive you to keep moving forward.

In the end, without your hero, you are nothing.

That day, the snow was gently cascading down from the sky, blessing the ground with its innocence and purity.

I had been minding my own business, squirming along the forest floor when she came. "Stupid, filthy insect!" the girl screamed, having almost stepped on me. "You almost got your nasty bug guts on my brand new shoes!"

After a prolonged pause, shot me an inhuman smirk. "I know just what I'm going to do to you." With that devious grin still plastered on her face, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pokéball. She pressed the center button, and a Charmeleon appeared in a flash of blinding white light.

The whole forest went stark silent. The girl turned to her Pokémon and faintly murmured, "Kill her."

An sickening simper wormed itself onto the fire type's face. He began slowly approaching me; I dared not to fathom what he would do when he reached me. But I knew one thing for sure— he wasn't going to kill me… yet. He wanted me to suffer first. But for what? Merely _existing_? Was my life _that_ meaningless?

But who was I to try and escape fate? I was but a lowly Wurmple. There was no way a Pokémon like me could ever hope to escape, let alone defeat, a Pokémon of the Charmeleon's calibre. It just wasn't possible.

I began shaking vehemently in fear of my impending demise.

"Hey, call back your Pokémon! You could hurt that poor little Wurmple!" a voice interjected from behind me.

I turned to face the newcomer; he was of average height and had long, unkempt blonde hair. His deep green eyes burned with determination.

"That's kinda the point, stupid," the girl spat. "It's just a dumb bug. It's not like anybody is going to miss him anyways."

This seemed to enrage the boy. Firmly planting himself between the Charmeleon and I, he stated, "Fine then. If you want to get to the bug, you have to go through me first."

"Who do you think you are?" the girl demanded.

The boy smiled. "I am Blair Amador."

Everything after that moment was a blur, but it's not like any of it mattered anyways. Blair scared the girl off, and after calming me down, he decided to catch me; not that I objected at all.

"I think I'm going to name you Amber. Whaddaya think of that?"

I beamed up at him.

"Awesome," he replied, his warm laughter sending my heart soaring.

Nothing else mattered but him. In that moment, watching him joyously laughing in front of me, I was truly happy.

I had found my hero.


End file.
